Leila
by DragonAiua
Summary: The story of a Haradrim warrior.


Aden stood at the open tent flap, watching the men practice sword skills. She slid her fingers over the hilt of one of their extra's that was leaning against a pole. It was smooth and cool to the touch, even though the sun beat hotly down upon them. "Aden!" A voice from inside the tent pierced through Aden's daydream. "Come, you should not waste your time watching the men's work. You have your own."  
  
With a sigh the girl turned, entering the tent. The voice she had heard was her mother, a small woman with sharp black eyes, which was all you could see of her really. Aden walked over toward a huge loom in the corner with a barely started pattern in the works. She kneeled before it, and continued the work.  
  
"You're a good weaver Aden. Your time is better spent before the loom then wasting time watching boys." Aden blushed beneath her sari. That had not been what she was doing! "Come dear I need some help with the cooking."  
  
**~**  
  
That night there was a large feast celebrating the birth of the tribe. Aden hugged the shadows, a pitcher of wine in her hands, waiting to serve. Most of the woman had grouped, gossiping and giggling while they were all together. They enjoyed this. Aden shook her head. Crazy, all of them!  
  
A hand from the circle of men beckoned her. Akbar. At 18 he was one of the most prized fighters (and what the girls talked about more, he was very handsome). She slowly walked to him, her heart fluttering. "Wine?"  
  
"Yes please." He looked up at her smiling. Aden quickly noted that he had a very nice smile. "You were watching us today at practice. Do we pass inspection?"  
  
Aden's whole face colored. "Well, why--of--course!!"  
  
He laughed. "Why do you watch us so often? Most women think our time with learning to fight is silly."  
  
Aden opened her mouth to speak then closed. For once she was thankful for the sari, that covered so much of her face, helping her to hide her emotions. "Because- well, I want to learn. The dance is-beautiful."  
  
He smiled, and Aden just about died. "The dance? Yes I suppose it is." His voice hushed, to be sure no one else could hear him. "I could teach you, at night. Would you care for that?"  
  
Aden's heart must have literally stopped. Or at least her breathing did. "Yes!"  
  
"Meet me here, midnight."  
  
~~*~~  
  
Aden shivered in the night cold. Akbar had not yet come. Could he have been teasing her? Or could he have forgotten? She suddenly felt very foolish. She wasn't needed as a warrior, why bother to learn? She should be sleeping. And then weaving. She was about to turn back when Akbar came into veiw. He was carrying 2 swords, both practice ones. "Sorry I'm late. Do you still want to learn?"  
  
"oh..yes."  
  
"Good. Take this." She held the sword he gave her. "No, you are holding it wrong. Come, someone might hear us here. We shall go into the desert a bit."  
  
She followed him, and when finally they stopped, he commanded her to once again hold the sword as she had. He then came around behind her placing his hands over hers, moving them to the correct position. "There you go. Much better. Now..."  
  
Aden crept back into her tent 2 hours later. She was totally exhausted, but had a smile on her face.  
  
**~**  
  
For 6 months, Akbar gave Aden lessons at night. She had greatly improved, and the lessons had got longer, yet she still held up. She had taken to wearing boys clothing during the lessons, the maneuvering was much easier. During the day when Akbar and Aden passed each other they would both smile, but they kept their secret. Akbar had taken to calling her "Leila', and she had finally stopped blushing every time he said something to her. Her weaving had greatly improved. During the daytime she worked diligently and her mother was surprised by the sudden change. However she was to happy about it to investigate any reasons.  
  
That night they walked further away then usual. They used real swords now, and the noise would be too much. They talked and laughed all the way there. They were good friends. It was about an hour into their practice when Aden started to here a strange noise..."What's that?" Akbar stopped fighting, listening into the wind. "Sandstorm!!" He grabbed Aden's wrist, and began to run towards camp. "But!!" She had to yell now. "That's where it's coming from!!" He nodded, turning them around. All to soon the storm was upon them. Aden began to cough. No matter what direction they went there was more sand, blowing into their faces. But Akbar's grip on her was steady. Whatever happened he would not lose her in the storm. Then it was over. No it wasn't over. But they had stumbled into a cave, and the sound was muffled, the wind, the sand, had gone. He sat down on the floor of the cave, and she sat next to him. "You ok, Leila?"  
  
She smiled. "Yes. You?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
They sat in silence until the sun was up, and the storm had settled back into all the rest of the desert, leaving no evidence of it's coming.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"Come Leila. We must go back to camp now." He strapped his sword around his waist, holding out his hand to help her up. She took it stretching, and sticking the sword she was using in her own sash.  
  
"Our people will need us."  
  
"But, Akbar, they will know about our going out. They won't like it."  
  
He smiled patiently down at her. "So? they need us. First duty is to your people."  
  
They stepped outside, into the sunlight. A dust cloud in the distance. Akbar shaded his eyes. "People. Maybe they are looking for us. Let's wait here a bit." She nodded.  
  
It wasn't until the group was upon them that they knew they were not of their tribe. A tall, stocky man rode forward, spear thrust in the air. "Hail!! We are from the Far South, ambassadors of Sauron who will lead our people to victory from the oppression of Gondor!! We ask that you join us, and your people shall have the benefits of war, just as we. What is your saying?"  
  
Akbar frowned. "I have heard of Sauron. He is not a man of honor, and will not keep his promises. However I hold no grudge against you, and you can continue on in peace, we shall not hinder your path."  
  
The man sneered. "We don't need your permission to pass through, or your neutrality. You are either with us, for the good of Harad, or a traitor to your people. And we will not abide traitors!!" With a yell, the man drove his spear through Akbar, ignoring Aden's drawn sword. He then turned, signaling to his men, and they galloped off. Aden stood there for a second, and then with a cry, she knelt beside Akbar, taking a hold of his hand. He smiled weakly. "Salaam Leila." She closed his eyes forever with her fingertips, drawing his sword, replacing it with her own. Aden stood, looking for the cloud of dust that marked the killer's way; she then began to walk, starting a long journey that would bring her many places, through many ordeals. 


End file.
